


I Don't Bend Like That

by starkercrossedlovers



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Anal Sex, Bottom Tony Stark, Emotional Baggage, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Sex, M/M, Top Peter Parker, peter parker is a yoga instructor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-20
Updated: 2020-07-20
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:22:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25406086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starkercrossedlovers/pseuds/starkercrossedlovers
Summary: Post Battle of New York Tony is a mess--drinking too much and not sleeping enough. Pepper recommends yoga and Tony is skeptical, but then he sees the gorgeous instructor and changes his mind.
Relationships: Peter Parker/Tony Stark
Comments: 4
Kudos: 138





	1. Chapter 1

It’s not that he _can’t_ sleep it’s just that when he does, he’s surrounded by the cold black vacuum of space, watching as an invading alien force creeps closer.

So yea, it’s not that he _can’t_ it’s that he can’t stand what he sees when he _does_.

So maybe he’s not sleeping enough, and drinking too much so he blacks out instead of dreaming, but, it’s not like he doesn’t have a viable excuse.

When he shows up for a board meeting half in the bottle and falls asleep, Pepper steps in. Her eyes are full of regret and pity and he _hates_ it. He hates how he’s letting her down, _again._

Hates how she looks at him now, like he’s broken.

But, maybe he is.

He’s been beaten and bruised and almost died too many times to count and it’s not like a person can walk away from that whole.

So maybe he’s broken.

But then, everybody is a little broken.

* * *

Pepper gives him a slip of paper with an address and a time. “Go. Just, for me?”

He can’t refuse her, not when she’s got tears sparkling in those bright eyes of hers, the ones that used to smile at him from across a room and make his heart beat faster.

Now his heart only beats faster when he’s panicking, suffering through an anxiety attack, wishing desperately that he was dead so he didn’t have to fuckin shatter _every single time_ , unable to piece himself back together again because there’s too many pieces gone.

Like a jigsaw puzzle of the sky, he’s just a muted blueish grey, indistinct and undefinable.

So he takes the slip of paper and looks up the address. It’s a yoga studio.

Snorting, he tosses the paper in the trash and grabs a bottle of whiskey, heads for the lab.

He doesn’t need to meditate on his issues. He needs to _forget_ them.

* * *

When he wakes up in a pool of his own vomit in the lab two days later, he thinks that maybe it wouldn’t be so terrible to check out the yoga class. He showers, pops some Advil, drinks about a gallon of water and does some research. He learns the basic moves and buys some yoga pants and a mat and marks on his calendar the next class.

He decided to go to the early morning session—Greet the sun! it declares—and when Jarvis wakes him at 4:45am, he really, really doesn’t want to go.

But he made a promise, so he gets up, dresses, and drives over to the small studio in Queens. He can’t believe he’s going so far out of his way—he could hire a literal yogi from India to come and train him, but Pepper had insisted this was better.

He keeps his head down and sets up his mat in the back of the room, tucked into the corner where hopefully no one will notice that Tony Stark is taking a yoga class.

People filter in, chatting and laughing and he stares determinedly down at his phone, scrolling through the emails that are already starting to pile up.

“Alright guys, phones away please, let’s get started.”

The voice is firm and warm, and when he glances up he’s stunned to see a lithe, pretty boy teaching the class. He can’t be more than 19, and Tony instantly feels guilty for the way his gaze flicks over the leanly muscular boy, darting away when the kid meets his gaze with a faint smirk.

“Ok, let’s go ahead and stand tall, feet together. I want everyone to breathe deep to a count of four and exhale to a count of four.”

A mix of rainfall and jungle noises slowly filters through the room as the lights dim into a warm, orange glow.

“Good, good. Now I want you to reach **up** and greet the sun, thank the universe for giving you a new day.”

Tony snorts softly and does as he’s bid, but the sound must be loud enough to catch the instructor’s attention because that warm honey gaze is on him for a split second, considering and steady, and then gone.

“Very good. Now let’s bring those arms out like wings and fold down, half lift back up, there we go, and now bend again as deep as you can without hurting yourself and **hold**.” ****

Tony grimaces as his hamstrings burn and then warm, stretching slowly. It’s entirely different than boxing, too slow he thinks, but it feels good so far so he keeps going.

“Good. Now I want you to walk those hands out and spread your feet to hip width. You’re in down dog, and I want you to hold it for four breaths in and out to a count of four.”

Tony peers out the side of his eye as he breathes, watches as everyone else smiles, looking blissful and relaxed. He certainly doesn’t feel blissful, maybe a little relaxed, but he’s still not sure this is going to help in the long run.

“Good now let’s walk those hands back and roll up, head up last.”

The kid beams at everyone and nods, “Okay, let’s work!” he declares and proceeds to guide the room through an increasingly difficult series of poses.

When he glances as the clock, sweat dripping down his face he’s stunned to see they’re barely halfway through the class. He’s holding a difficult pose, a three point downward dog style, with his left leg straight in the air and it burns, and he wants to stop, but the kid hasn’t said they can move yet.

“Hey there, how you doing?”

The voice is soft and kind and he checks his periphery to find the lean legs of the instructor next to him.

“Fine,” he grunts out, arms trembling and hip aching.

“You can bring the leg down and take a breather if you need to. This isn’t about pushing, it’s about finding the sweet spot where you’re comfortably uncomfortable and holding it just shy of too long.”

He snorts at that, “Trust me kid, I’m uh, comfortably uncomfortable,” he gasps out with a wry laugh.

There’s a moment of silence and then a hand lands on his thigh and applies pressure, “Go ahead and bring that leg down,” he says, and Tony realizes it’s to the whole room.

The hand stays there as he lowers his leg, hot and heavy and a new kind of heat blooms in the cradle of his hips.

“Switch legs please.”

And then he’s gone, making a circuit around the room to talk to students, laughing and showing concern where it’s needed, and Tony can’t help but track him, wishing distantly that he’d come back and touch him again.

“Good, transition into low lunge please, left leg back. Now lift those arms and rise up about two inches, then back down.”

His thighs burn and ache and he’s dripping sweat but he’s doing it, he’s in some kind of zone, his breathing loud and steady in his ears as he flows.

They flow from a low lunge into warrior three, balancing before coming back down into the lunge and turning into warrior two, hands pressing out—“Push away all the anxiety and worries, breathe out the bad and imagine the good as you inhale.”

It’s kitschy and dumb and he’d make fun of it if he couldn’t so clearly picture all his anxieties and fears being pushed away. It’s refreshing and soothing and he finds himself sinking deeper into the soft sensation that seems to be wrapped around him.

They repeat the poses on the right side and before he knows it they’re going through down dog and then into child’s pose to just breathe. The background sounds playing shut off and it’s just silence in the room. The lights fade off and he closes his eyes, muscles shaking and body soaked in sweat.

“I want you all to just breathe, to listen to your heart beat and your lungs inhale and exhale. Let the silence wrap around you and just be a part of the world around you.”

He feels stretched, weak and shivery, his heart beating faster than normal as he breathes, letting his mind drift.

“Please be conscious of your fellow classmates as you leave, and have a blessed day.”

He hears people shuffling and rising, whispering as they leave and he drifts, the white noise of the room and the darkness tugging at his mind, stars dancing behind his eyes.

A looming presence fills his minds eye, a titan on a throne, ships flanking it, spreading out further than his mind can comprehend. His breathing grows shallow and rapid as his heart lurches and thunders.

The silence is overwhelming, crushing him in on all sides and oh god, he’s going to die here in this void…

“Hey there, how are you doing?”

A hand lands on his shoulder and he gasps, too loud, his whole body flinching under the touch. It quickly retreats and he’s shaking, gasping and fighting tears, and oh god, his left arm is numb, it’s not supposed to be like this.

 _Stop stop stop_ he begs his body, _please stop_

He doesn’t realize he’s said it out loud until there’s a presence beside him, warm and reassuring, whispering—“Ok, I’ve stopped, I’m not touching you. Can you please do something for me? I want you to breathe in to a count of four and hold it for two and then back out for four, okay? Here I’ll do it with you.”

_Breathe_

He can do that

He inhales slowly, chest shuddering the whole time as tears slide down his cheeks.

“Good Tony, that’s so good. Now I want you to breathe in to a count of six and hold for three and then back out. I’ll do it with you.”

They breathe

Inhale

Exhale

Inhale

Exhale

His chest stops shuddering

“So good Tony, you’re doing amazing sweetie.”

He shivers at the soft name, and sniffles, exhaling unsteadily before breathing in slowly.

“T-t-Thank you.”

It takes him three tries to get the words out and there’s a moment of silence before the kid speaks.

“Of course. May I touch you?”

He nods and a moment later a hand is on his shoulder, firm but gentle. “I want you to take a deep breath and then push your legs back and rise into down dog, okay? When you’re ready,” he murmurs, kind and firm and it’s exactly what Tony needs.

He takes a few breaths and then pushes back, head dropping between his arms and eyes falling open slowly. The hand at his shoulder hasn’t left, and this time it rubs gently over his shoulder blades, comforting and warm.

“Very good. Now walk your hands back and roll up, _**slowly,**_ ” he orders, voice low and commanding, but still friendly and warm. Tony keeps his eyes open, breathing slowly as he rises up, and when he’s upright fully, the instructor moves to stand in front of him. His eyes are warm with concern and Tony ducks his chin, ashamed of his reaction and the panick attack that’s left him weak and shaky.

“Hey, Tony?” A hand lands on his shoulder and he looks up, surprised at how close the kid is. He’s even prettier up close. “You don’t have to be ashamed. I get them too.” At his stunned look the kid nods and then gestures to the floor, “Sit and drink some water, I’ll be right back.”

Tony sort of slumps down and takes a long drag from his water bottle, leans back against the cool concrete wall, the chill of it soothing to his overheated skin. The kid comes back with his own bottle of water, a yoga mat and a chocolate bar. He sinks down beside Tony and situates himself before breaking a piece off the candy bar and hands it to Tony with a grin, “Eat.”

Tony obeys, a little stunned by how commanding such a young sweet looking kid is. The chocolate melts on his tongue, sweet and warm and the shakes in his hands slow as he sucks on it till it’s gone.

“I’m Peter, by the way,” the kid says with a sideways grin, “Peter Parker.”

Tony smiles faintly and shakes the kid’s hand, “Tony Stark,” he murmurs, both of them laughing a little at the inanity of the most famous man in the world introducing himself.

They’re silent a moment before he ventures, “You said you get them too?” Peter nods and breaks off more chocolate for each of them.

“My parents died in a car accident when I was a baby so my aunt and uncle raised me. Ben and I were out together the day the Chitauri attacked, just getting back from a baseball game, and, uh,” he takes a shaky breath and shakes his head, “Part of a building collapsed on us. I held his hand while he bled out and then laid there, waiting to die.”

Peter stares at the ground and Tony can see it all too easily, the dust and grime and blood of that day streaked across that pretty face. “You and Captain America dug me out and then I saw you go up into the portal and…” he sighs heavily, “I woke up three days later in the hospital and haven’t been able to sleep without a light on in a year.”

Tony tells him slowly, stumblingly of what it was like in that black hole, of how he can’t sleep, how all he sees is death, coming for them all, and when the tears come again, Peter pulls his head onto his shoulder and holds him close, whispering soft soothing things.

It’s…nice

So he comes back

Again

And again

* * *

Peter holds him against his chest, lips teasing at his ear as he rolls his hips gently up into Tony’s. He’s in lotus pose on Peter’s lap, the kid’s cock deep inside him, rolling into him slowly, stretching and pushing him gently into each cresting wave of pleasure.

It takes _forever_ to cum like this, but Tony adores it when it does happen because it’s soft and warm and it feels like coming home. Peter holds him through it, whispering soft lovely things in his ear, breath hot on his sweaty skin.

“Good job sweetie, you’re so good for me Tony. Look how pretty you are, god baby I love you.”

Peter doesn’t care that he cries after, just holds him a little tighter, grounding him in his arms. “You’re safe, I’ve got you baby, I’ve got you.”

And he is, safe, because even if that void opens inside him, yawning and horrifying, Peter is right there to pull him out, hold him close and love him back to life.


	2. Chapter 2

“Babe, I literally cannot bend like that, I’m too old.”

Peter laughs and rolls his eyes, “Sure you can Tony, c’mon, just sink into your thigh and wrap your bottom arm under, there you go, now reach back and lock your fingers together with the other, good job, and now, hold it.”

Tony’s muscles shiver as he holds the position, his boyfriend watching carefully from the side.

“Good job sweetheart, now, ease out of it and into runners lunge, there it is, and now back into down dog.”

“Yea, doggie style,” Tony quips, as he does every time, because he knows it makes Peter laugh and roll his eyes and his boyfriend is possibly the cutest thing when he’s grinning and biting back a sarcastic response.

“Hold it there please.”

“That’s what he said.”

“Jesus Tony!” Peter exclaims, bursting out laughing, “Focus!”

Tony grins and leans deeper into the pose, “You got it babe.”

But now it’s Peter who can’t focus because they’ve been at this for an hour and Tony’s shirtless and sweaty and his yoga pants are clinging to his hips, and Peter swallows hard because he _wants…_ desperately _._

They’ve messed around a few times while doing yoga and one of his favorite ways to fuck Tony is while he’s sitting in Peter’s lap doing lotus pose, rocking and grinding into him slowly till they’re covered in sweat and Tony’s begging him to cum.

He steps closer and runs his fingers from Tony’s shoulder, down his spine, smirking at the tremble that goes through the older man’s body at the touch.

“Thought you wanted me to focus.”

Peter grins.

“I do baby, do you think you can if I fuck you?”

Tony inhales a little deeper, the slightly unsteady sound of it making Peter’s stomach clench with need.

“Sure can kid. Bring it.”

Oh…Peter’s going to make him regret that.

He starts slow, trailing his hands over broad shoulders, then down into his hair to tighten and jerk his head up so Peter can smirk down at him as he pushes his own yoga pants to just below his ass.

Tony eyes his cock hungrily and Peter tugs on his hair, “Open,” he demands, pulling Tony up to his fingertips so the angle is better when he pushes into his mouth.

Both men groan, but Peter doesn’t hold still long. He rolls his hips, shallow at first and then deeper, faster. He grunts as Tony moans around his cock, limbs shaking as Peter thrusts, barely holding onto his stance.

“So good,” he croons, breath punching out of him as Tony groans and works his tongue over his cock, spit sloppy and hungry for the cum that leaks out slowly. Tony hums in appreciation, always happy with the praise Peter liberally doles out.

When he’s close he pulls out and watches the spit and cum get licked off Tony’s lips, the low groan that slips out of him at the sight loud enough to draw Tony’s gaze up. He smiles and pets Tony’s hair, “Such a good cocksucker,” he croons, reaching down to swipe his thumb over Tony’s lips.

Tony hums at the praise and Peter steps around him, hands trailing over sweaty skin. He leans down and presses a kiss to the small of Tony’s back, licking up the salty sweat off his skin.

“Mmm, you taste so good sweetie.”

“So do you Pete, love your cock.”

Fingers curling in the waistband of Tony’s yoga pants, he pulls them down slowly, peppering kisses across his cheeks.

“Thank you baby, I love yours too.”

His lips trail over Tony’s thighs and he smirks against his skin. “Spread your legs a little wider baby,” he orders, rubbing his hands up and down the skin of his thighs as Tony does what he’s told.

He can feel the muscle shaking and nips at him, “Can you keep going?” He knows Tony will try even if he’s tired, he’s done it before and fell, so he’s not taking any chances now.

“M ok for now,” Tony murmurs back, “little sore.”

“Okay baby, you let me know if you need to switch poses. We can go to child’s pose if you need a break.”

Tony nods but stays as he is and Peter presses another kiss, this one higher and just shy of his balls, “That’s my good boy,” he croons. He licks over the soft skin of Tony’s sack, sucking first one and then the other into his mouth.

One hand steadies his thigh and the other slides between Tony’s legs to grab his cock, stroking slowly. He sucks on him for a few minutes, the slick sound of his mouth and his hand echoing in the yoga studio Tony had built in the penthouse.

When he can feel Tony’s balls tightening he pulls away, hand slipping free from his cock as he stands and pulls his own leggings up. They fuck in here often enough that they now keep lube handy, so he’s able to grab it from the shelf and be back across the room before Tony has the chance to make a smart ass comment.

He sets the lube down where Tony can see it but doesn’t slick up his fingers or his cock. Instead, he leans down and spreads Tony’s cheeks, tongue laving over the tight furl, salt and musk flooding his tongue.

“Mmmm,” he groans, “baby you taste so good.”

He licks in broad strokes until Tony’s shivering and breathing in punched out little gasps, begging incoherently. His thighs shake beneath Peter’s hands and he pulls back slightly to check on his boyfriend.

“How you doing babe? Need a change of pose?”

“Hnnnngggg….n-not yet.”

Nodding, Peter digs his thumbs into Tony’s rim, stretching it wider so he can thrust his tongue in. Tony cries out sharply, his thighs quaking, knees turning to jello and Peter just barely manages to hold him up so they don’t both go sprawling to the floor.

“Ok baby, ok. I want you to spread your legs real wide and walk your hands back. You can let your arms hang or fold them over each other, but I want you to stay like that, okay?” Peter instructs, voice soft but commanding.

Tony nods unsteadily and does as he’s told, relief sighing out heavily when there’s no more pressure on his exhausted arms. Peter strokes his hand over Tony’s back, gives him a minute to collect himself a little and then dives back in.

He’s sloppier this time, sucking at his rim and nipping it between his teeth, spit dribbling down his chin as Tony gasps and sobs, knuckles white where he’s gripping his shins. “You taste so good baby, I can’t wait to see you all stretched out around my cock.”

Tony whines and pushes his ass back, demanding more and Peter laughs, slapping his ass, “ _Greedy,”_ he teases, “hold on.” He reaches for the lube this time, slicks up his fingers and presses two in, searching till he finds that spot…just…

“Ahhh! Oh, _fuck!”_

**_There_ **

He rubs his fingers into it, slow circles that send shudders down Tony’s spine and weak, punched out noises from his chest. He’s a mess; lube and spit trailing down his ass, cum dripping off his cock and onto the floor, lips stained red from being wrapped around Peter’s cock…

And they haven’t even got to the good part yet.

Peter grins as Tony begs, sobbing out as his hips jolt, thrusting into nothing, the lack of stimulation on his cock torturous.

“P-please! Peter! _Ahh_! Ah! _Oh_ …fuck… _please!”_

Peter slicks up a third finger and presses in slowly, stretching his hole out and abandoning his prostate for the moment. He watches hungrily as Tony’s hole stretches, his hot, wet insides begging for his cock.

He wants to fuck Tony like this but he can see the older man’s thighs quaking again and gently pulls his fingers free. At Tony’s whine of disappointment he shushes him, rubbing a hand over his lower back.

“Shh, it’s okay sweetheart. I want you to go down to child’s pose, mmkay?”

Tony shakes his head fervently, “Uhn, I want it…want you…like this,” he gasps out, moaning and pushing his ass back.

It’s _so_ inviting, but Peter resists, hands gentle as he encourages Tony to move. “I know sweetie, but you’re tired, lemme take care of you,” he murmurs, dropping kisses to the sweaty skin of his back.

Tony whines again but nods, sinking down shakily into child’s pose, arching his hips up just a little so his hole winks and glistens in the low light of the studio.

“Good job baby, I’m so proud,” Peter croons, kneeling behind his boyfriend so he can rock his own hips forward. His cock slides through Tony’s slick cheeks, the weeping tip brushing against his hole over and over again until Tony’s pushing back, begging.

“ _Please_ Pete, baby, I need you.”

“Okay, Tony, I got you sweetheart.”

He slicks up his cock and presses in slowly, a grunt punching out of him; no matter how many times they do this, he’ll never, _ever_ get used to the feeling of being inside Tony. The very first time he’d cried a little, so overwhelmed at being utterly consumed by Tony’s body, never wanting to leave it, sobbing out when he came…

They had both cried actually, and the thought of it makes his throat a little tight now, so he runs a hand over Tony’s back, petting him as he sinks deeper and deeper.

“Fuck sweetheart, you’re so tight! Feels so good inside you Tony,” he gasps, rolling his hips slowly.

For his part Tony just whines and rocks back, hands splayed on the floor as he gasps and moans Peter’s name. He loves seeing Tony like this; pliable and soft, falling apart around his cock like it’s the only thing in the world that makes him happy, whole.

He thrusts harder, losing himself in the tight wet clench of Tony’s hole, lips parted as he breathes deeply, watching Tony’s spine ripple as he rocks back, hungry desperate keening noises filling the air.

It’s lewd, the sounds they make, but Peter loves it and he knows Tony does too. He gets embarrassed when Peter fingers him, the wet squelch of his fingers always makes him blush, egged on by Peter’s filthy whispers— _listen to your hole baby, listen how hungry it is for me…all sloppy like a cunt…you want my cock in there? Huh? Yea you do baby boy._

“Pete…please…”

“Please what baby?”

“Wanna…”

“Wanna…unh!”

Tony’s head is pressed to the ground, moaning as Peter thrusts in harder, his cock dragging over his prostate over and over again, lighting him up from the inside out. Peter knows that positioned like this Tony’s cock is trapped between his knees and belly, and without getting a hand on him, he can likely make him cum without losing his erection.

“Come on Tony, can you cum for me? Come on my cock baby.”

Tony whines but pushes back, keening as Peter thrusts harder, angling himself so he knocks that spot inside Tony with every other thrust. When Tony spasms and cries out, Peter pulls out, hands on Tony’s hips pulling him upright so he can check, and _yea_ , he’s still hard.

The skin of his belly and the fabric of his leggings are a mess and he’s sobbing as he leans back into Peter, begging to cum.

“You just did sweetie, you need to cum again?”

Tony nods loosely, “Please Pete, need it, need _you.”_

And _oh_ , isn’t _that_ just the sweetest thing Peter’s ever heard. He presses kisses to Tony’s throat, nipping at his sensitive skin, “Course baby, how do you want it?”

“Wanna face you,” Tony breathes, already shifting so he can see Peter. Wrapping his legs around Peter’s waist he rolls his hips, grinding his cock into Peter’s stomach, eyes glazed with desire, lips sultry red from being bitten.

“C’mere baby,” Peter murmurs, lofting Tony’s tired arms up to hang over his shoulders. He lifts his knees for Tony to brace against and gently guides him back down into his cock.

Tony mewls and rolls his hips, eyes rolling back as he gasps. “Yeah, get it, baby,” Peter urges between breaths, “get that fuckin’ dick, that’s yours Tony.” Tony bounces a little faster, gasping and whining, face screwed up with pleasure as Peter fucks into him.

Humming softly, Peter leans in and slides his lips down that flushed throat, leaving a string of marks like a necklace. Tony rocks slower in his lap now, legs too tired to lift him more than an inch or so before he slides back down slowly.

He sobs in frustration, shaking his head, “Need more, please,” he whines, trying to rock faster, but Peter knows he’s too tired.

“‘S okay baby, I got you, just hold on,” he whispers. His hands find Tony’s hips, grasping firmly so he can lift Tony up, working him on his cock in long even strokes that leave him breathless and aching to cum.

Tony kisses him hungrily, sloppy and without grace, sucking on his tongue as Peter fucks him on his cock, his super strength making it as easy as lifting a feather. He knows how much Tony likes his strength, enjoys the bruises he leaves behind, but he’s always careful—he knows that he could seriously hurt Tony if he’s not careful.

The strength gives him the ability to keep going even after Tony’s lost his strength to lift his hips, and if the pitch of his moans are any indicator, he loves being manhandled and dragged toward his imminent release.

“‘S good…so good,” Tony slurs as Peter fucks into him harder, heat pooling in his belly as Tony’s hole clenches around him. Pete rocks forward, one hand braces behind Tony’s neck as he rises to his knees and fucks into him deeper.

Tony’s cock drools onto his belly as he keens, throbbing and deeply red, sobbing breaths hitching his chest as Peter rolls his hips into him over and over again. Leaning in, he nips and sucks at Tony’s nipples, holding him firmly in place when he tries to arch away.

When they’re red and swollen, Peter pulls back so he can pinch them, tighter and tighter until Tony is sobbing and bucking his hips desperately, cock drooling heavily against his skin.

 _Oh please oh please_ Tony begs, breath coming in gasping hitches as he keens and sobs. When Peter puts his free hand on Tony’s cock and strokes, the older man _howls,_ bucking his hips as he cums.

It splatters against his chest and chin, painting his flushed skin white and Peter grunts as his hole spasms around him, dragging him into his own release. He fucks Tony through it, pumping his hips as his cock spills again and again inside Tony.

When Tony is too sensitive he pulls his hand off his cock and lays him down, sliding out of him slowly so he can cover Tony’s body with his. They kiss lazily, hands seeking out skin, air shared between parted lips and panting breaths until they’re both too tired to move.

Peter rests his head on Tony’s chest, the arc reactor humming in his ear softly. Tony’s fingers curl into his hair, nails scratching softly against his scalp and Peter purrs at the sensation.

“See, I told you you could hold that position.”

Tony bursts out laughing, the rumble of it echoing in Peter’s ear and he smiles in response to the joyful sound, tilting his chin so he can press a kiss to the reactor, to the heart below that is utterly his, just as his is utterly Tony’s.


End file.
